I can explain?
by irishwhiskeyandsweets
Summary: When Detectives Nick Burkhardt and Hank Griffin arrive at a crime scene, they find a teenager tied to a chair, a man with bloodied hands, and four dead bodies. Stiles loves making people uncomfortable, Derek is angry, and Nick is confused. Could be read as Sterek or Nick\Monroe, but doesn't have to be. First story, so be kind.
1. Chapter 1

"Portland PD! Open up!"

Nick Burkhardt yelled into apartment 422. The police had gotten complaints of a disturbance, and Nick and his partner, Hank Griffin, had been the closest unit, so they were checking it out. There was a frantic shuffling behind the closed door, but no answer.

Nick nodded silently to his partner, and counted to three on his fingers. On three, Nick stepped back and Hank kicked the door in. After rushing in, they were met with an unexpected scene. Four middle aged guys lay still on the carpeted floor, blood pooled around them, faces slack, obviously dead. Their throats had been slashed, torn apart really. But that wasn't the strange thing. A boy, who couldn't have been more than 17, with spiked black hair, a plaid shirt, and an expression that was a mixture of surprise and something similar to getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, sat tied to a chair, unharmed except for a small bruise that was forming under his eye. A tall, slightly older man stood next to him, with dark hair, a black leather jacket, and bright green eyes. His hands, which were at his side, had blood dripping down them, making tiny splashes of red on the white carpet. The window was shattered into pieces, the glass forming almost a mosaic on the floor.

Nick raised his gun at the man, ordering him to freeze, while Hank cleared the rest of the apartment.

"Clear." He confirmed, and raised his gun at the tall man as well.

"Put your hands up." Nick ordered. "Slowly."

The man looked to the teenager, who just shrugged at him, then raised his hands up. The teenager smiled sheepishly.

"I can explain?"

Just then three more officers burst into the room, and stopped suddenly when they saw the scene in front of them. They looked to Nick for an explanation, but he was just as confused as them. What had this kid gotten himself into?


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles knew he was in trouble. It was all his dad's fault, really. He was the one who had shipped him off to his aunt's house for the month. Of course Scott would insist on someone coming with him to protect the only human in the pack. Well, except for Allison, but she was a hunter, so she didn't count, not really. And of course, Derek was the only one who didn't have someone who would miss him. So of course, Derek would have to follow him all the way out to Portland, texting him occasionally about how much he hated babysitting him. And, now they were in this mess.

The two cops who had found them seemed unsure whether or not they should cuff him, but seemed to settle on a "better safe than sorry" mentality.

They took Derek away in the back of a squad car, much to the wolf's protests. Stiles just hoped that the cops wouldn't make him too mad, and have him rip them all to shreds.

The two detectives, who Stiles had decided to mentally refer to as, "The model and his black sidekick", though he was pretty sure they wouldn't appreciate the nicknames, drove him over to the station in the backseat of their car. He didn't say a word the whole drive, which made the black sidekick uncomfortable, he could tell. The model asked him once if there was anyone he wanted them to call, but Stiles stayed silent. He prayed his dad would never find out about this. Hopefully, Derek would find some clever way to get them out before they figured out that his dad was the sheriff in Beacon Hills.

Stiles nearly groaned as he imagined how his dad would react if he found out that the police had caught his son and Derek Hale with a pile of bodies. He would never be allowed to do anything ever again. Stiles leaned back in his seat, making an uncomfortable squeak, and earning him a glance in the rearview mirror from the black sidekick. Stiles smirked at him, and he quickly looked away, making Stiles smirk again. He knew he creeped the dude out, and he planned to make the most out of it. He wondered if that was the reason for Derek's creepiness. Somehow he doubted it. He smiled again thinking about how much Derek was probably creeping out whichever unlucky cop had been tasked with taking him over to the station.

* * *

><p>Wu glanced in the rearview mirror again at the man he had somehow ended up taking over to the station. He was still sitting stock still, an angry, brooding expression on his face. Wu shuddered. Next time, he was taking the kid instead of the psycho who had presumably kidnapped him. The next time Wu looked into the mirror, the man caught is gaze and held it, growling slightly. Wu somehow felt it important he was not the first to break it, but unfortunately he saw the light turn green in his peripheral vision and had to turn his eyes back to the road. Derek smirked. He loved making people uncomfortable.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Nick pulled into his spot in the police station parking lot. As he shifted into park, he looked back at the kid. He hadn't said a word since telling the detectives that he could explain. Nick wondered if maybe it was some kind of PTSD. He hoped not. He didn't want to call in the department psychologist, from what Nick's brief experience with him during his annual psych eval could tell, he was a real pretentious jerk.

Now, though, the kid was staring across the parking lot at someone being led out of a squad car. When he looked closer, he saw that it was the guy they had found with him in the apartment. An unhappy looking Wu was leading him towards the entrance into the station.

Nick looked closely at the kid for signs of fear or apprehension of the man. Instead, he was surprised to see relief, and when they caught eyes, an unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them. That was weird.

They eventually settled on putting the green eyed man in one of their two interrogation rooms and the teenager in the other. Nick noticed that the kid seemed all too comfortable in the police station, and he wondered if he might have been arrested before. Hank interrupted his train of thought.

"That kid gives me the creeps. He's too quiet. Its weird."

Nick turned to him and smiled. "Not afraid of a teenager, are you?"

Hank snorted.

"No."

He paused for a moment.

"Still, I'll do you a favor and interrogate the psycho killer. You can take the kid."

Nick laughed and clicked the door open. The kid looked up when he heard Nick come in, and for a second he thought he was going to say something, but he closed his mouth again with a click. Nick sighed. This was going to be difficult.

"What's your name?" He asked. The kid just jiggled his leg and clamped his jaw even tighter.

"Look, you can either tell me or I can get the department psychologist and they can run tests for hours."

The kid thought about it for a moment, and he must have had a bad experience with psychologists, because he said reluctantly,

"Stiles."

To make sure he heard it right, after all it was a very strange name, Nick asked him to repeat it.

"Stiles, OK? My name's Stiles."

Noticing Nick's confused face, he muttered,

"It's a nickname, OK?"

Realizing he wasn't going to get anything more from the teen, Nick took a seat across from him at the table.

"Okay, Stiles."

Nick said, " Why don't you tell me what exactly happened to get you tied to a chair in a room full of dead bodies?"

Stiles just folded his arms and shook his head.

"Come on, you gotta tell me something." Nick said, exasperated.

The kid was starting to bounce, the jiggle in his knee moving up his whole leg. Nick was starting to get irritated, and he knew he would get even less out of the kid when he was like this, so he stood up to leave.

"I wanna see Derek."

It came from Stiles so quickly that Nick almost missed it.

"What did you say?"

Stiles shook his head, and Nick could tell that he regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

"Who's Derek?" He tried again, but Stiles just clamped his mouth shut as if to stop anymore wayword sentences from escaping. Nick left the room, confused.

Who was Derek? Stiles' friend, or maybe his dad or guardian? Nick rubbed his temple, where he could feel a headache starting to form. He hoped Hank was having better luck with the other guy.

Hank was getting more and more frustrated. He had been trying to interrogate the guy for almost half an hour. The key word being "trying". The guy had just sat there the entire time, not saying anything, not even looking at him. Hank was inches away from hitting the guy when Nick walked in.

From the look on his face, his interview with the kid hadn't gone well. Nick took a seat next to Hank silently, who continued his failed attempts to get at least a name from the man. Suddenly, and without warning, Nick interrupted.

"You're Derek, aren't you?"

The man looked up quickly, and Hank could tell Nick had gotten it right.

"How do you know that?"

The man growled, the first words they had heard him say. Nick grinned. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Your friend Stiles told me all about you."

This was a slight over exaggeration, it was just pure luck that Nick's hunch about the man's identity had been right. Derek's eyes suddenly had a terrifying look to them.

"What did you do to him?"

Derek growled with a sudden ferocity. Hank involuntarily scooted his chair backwards a little bit.

"Why do you assume that I did something?" Nick asked the other man calmly.

Derek looked like he was choosing his words carefully.

"You have a… smell. Of something different"

Nick was surprised. Was he a Wesen? It would explain the men's ripped out throats. But most Wesen couldn't tell that he was a Grimm just by smell alone. No, he decided, this was just a very odd murderer.

Nick was suddenly aware that the other man's hands were still covered in drying blood. He was dangerous, no doubt about it. So how did Stiles get himself mixed up with him? He gestured to Hank that he wanted to talk to him outside and they left the room silently, Derek still glaring at them.

When they were out of the room, Nick turned to Hank. "So, what do you think?" He asked his partner. Hank shook his head and sighed.

"I have no idea. Is he Wesen?"

He asked. Nick reluctantly shook his head.

"I don't think so. I didn't see him Woge when he got mad, but he could have been faking the anger."

Hank glanced at the clock.

"I don't know about you but I'm getting tired. You want me to go for a quick coffee run?"

Nick nodded. "Coffee sounds good right about now."


	4. Chapter 4

When Hank got back, two coffees in hand, he saw Nick arguing with the Captain through a window in his office. Seeing that it was starting to get heated, Hank stepped in and handed one of the steaming coffees to Nick.

This slowed him down enough that Hank could ask him what was going on. Nick glared at the Captain.

"He says that since we don't know how to contact Stiles' parents, we are going to have to put him in a holding cell all night."

Hank blinked in surprise.

"What, are you kidding? A kid like him wouldn't survive ten minutes in there."

The Captain rubbed his temples.

"I know. But we have no other choice. The kid seems innocent, so we could technically release him into the temporary custody of a police officer, but..."

He trailed off, then turned to Nick with a wicked look. Realizing what he was thinking, Nick took a couple steps backwards and held up his hands.

"Woah, no way. I am terrible with kids."

Hank was now grinning.

"Just think about it! It could work. You're still staying at Monroe's place, so he could help you keep an eye on him and maybe even see if he's a Wesen."

Nick looked between the faces of Hank and the Captain. He sighed, knowing this was a battle he wasn't going to win.

"You know what? Fine. But only if Hank stays over too."

Now it was Hank's turn to groan.

"Fine."

He said reluctantly.

"I can't wait to see Monroe's face when you tell him."

Nick let out another groan.


	5. Chapter 5

Monroe was looking forward to a pleasant evening of settling down with a broken clock and some good, quiet music.

Unfortunately, with Nick as his temporary roommate, this kind of evening was becoming rare. And when Nick walked into the kitchen with a guilty expression on his face, Monroe knew that it wasn't going to happen.

He set down the zucchini he had been slicing for dinner.

"What did you do?"

Nick opened his mouth to explain, when two more people followed him into the kitchen.

One of them was Hank, and he was leading in the other, a scrawny kid with an angry expression and a rolled up sleeping bag in his hands.

"No. No way!" Monroe exclaimed.

* * *

><p>Stiles was left in the kitchen with the black sidekick, who's name he had found to be Hank, while his partner and the other guy argued in the other room.<p>

He only caught snippets of the conversation, which included threats of chopping the other guy's head off with an axe and making tofu for dinner every night for a week.

Apparently Detective Burkhardt won the fight, because the other guy came into the kitchen shortly after and offered him a forced smile.

"Hi. I'm Monroe, and I guess you're going to be staying with us for a little while."

He said, raising an eyebrow at the detective.

"Us?" Stiles asked, mostly to make them uncomfortable, "Are you guys like a couple or something?"

Hank choked on his laughter, then attempted to stay serious when Nick glared at him.

"No." Monroe answered. "Just roommates."

Stiles could tell that it was the truth, but he couldn't help but make them a bit more uncomfortable.

"Righhht."

"Come on." Nick said, "You can have the guest room. Hank and I will take the couch and the floor."

Monroe led him up a flight of stairs into a small attic room. He could tell that someone had been living there, Nick, he assumed.

Monroe seemed unsure of what to say.

"I'll um, come and get you when dinner's ready."

He spun on his heel and left the room, leaving Stiles to look around.

The bed was neatly made, and Stiles gingerly sat down on the edge of it.

He noticed a picture on the nightstand and leaned over to look at it. It was a picture of Nick and some girl with red hair kissing under some mistletoe at a party. So it was Nick's room.

He checked the window to see if it was big enough to fit through, but no luck.

He sighed.

It was looking like he was stuck there, at least for now. He decided to call Scott as soon as possible.

He was lucky that his aunt was so irresponsible, she probably wouldn't even notice he was gone for a few days. Why his dad had chosen her to ship Stiles off to in order to "get him away from the messes he inevitably found himself in" in Beacon Hills was beyond him.

Stiles couldn't blame him really. He hated lying to his dad, but it was for his own protection. At least, that was what he told himself.

Stiles' escape plans were put on hold when Monroe entered.

"Dinners' ready." He announced, then retreated the way he came.

Stiles decided that he liked Monroe. He reminded him of many of his werewolf friends back in Beacon Hills for some reason.

He slammed the door of the room shut to let the men know he wasn't happy with his situation, then clumped down the stairs louder than necessary.

"I hope you like vegeterian." Monroe told him, glancing at Nick. "I wasn't expecting guests, otherwise I would have got something else at the store"

Stiles took a seat at the table and didn't answer. He had decided while he was upstairs that he would go back to his silent treatment. It usually worked for Derek.

What followed was one of the most awkward dinners Stiles had ever experienced. Everyone just sat quietly, the sound of chewing seemingly amplified in the silence.

At the turn of the hour, the whole house came alive. The clocks strewn about made their various chimes, melting into a sort of symphony. Nick and Monroe seemed used to it, but Hank and Stiles put their hands over their ears.

When the noise was over, Nick spoke. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you that Monroe is a clockmaker."

Stiles just nodded and resumed eating, painfully aware of how much he was acting like the Sourwolf he loved to make fun of.

When everyone had finished eating, a young woman arrived. Monroe greeted her with a kiss, and introduced her to Stiles as Rosalee. They sent him upstairs while they all discussed something.

Stiles plopped onto the bed with a sigh and started to plan how he would spring Derek, and get back to California as soon as possible. He just hoped Derek wouldn't maul him for leaving him in a jail cell all night.

Great. Now he had something else to worry about. He hated Portland.


	6. Chapter 6

So you think this guy Derek is Wesen?"

Monroe asked. Nick and Hank had just finished telling the others about the situation at the crime scene.

"I don't know. I mean, he got mad and didn't Woge, but he just might not have been mad enough. You think you would be able to tell if you saw him?"

Monroe shrugged. "Maybe. I can smell most Wesen, but the downside is that they can smell me too."

Nick nodded. "Okay. I guess that's a risk we're going to have to take. I get the feeling that making this guy mad, Wesen or not, would be a bad idea."

Their conversation was cut short by a slightly embarrassed looking Stiles padding downstairs in his socks.

Nick had to keep himself from laughing at his outfit. He was wearing an old shirt of Monroe's, that read "I gotta hand it to you, clocks are cool!" Monroe had also found an old pair of plaid pajama pants that were at least three sizes too big for the teenager, held into place by a few safety pins.

Stiles shifted from one foot to the other.

"I um...need my Adderal." He mumbled. "It's for my ADHD."

Nick was surprised. He hadn't mentioned anything about ADHD before.

"Okay, where is it?"

Stiles looked towards the floor. "Derek had it. They probably confiscated it when you brought us in."

Nick stood up and grabbed his keys off the table. "OK. I'll take you down to the station right now. Monroe and I have something to do down there anyways." Stiles ran upstairs and got dressed again, then the three headed out.

* * *

><p>Monroe glanced into the backseat as they pulled into the parking lot. Stiles had started to bounce a lot more on the ride over, barely able to keep himself still as the effects of his last dose started to wear off.<p>

"Hey, how come Derek had your pills in the first place?" Monroe asked, the thought just occurring to him.

Stiles looked like he was struggling not to say anything, but he blurted, "I dropped them when those guys grabbed me so that he would know I had been there."

He clamped his mouth shut, looking horrified at his ADHD and his mouth for betraying him. Nick thought about questioning him now, while he seemed much more chatty, but decided that it wasn't really fair to take advantage of the kid's condition.

"Wait here." He told the teenager when they got inside, directing him into a chair and planting him in it.

* * *

><p>Stiles watched them to make sure they turned the corner, and as soon as they were out of sight, bounced up from his chair like a spring.<p>

He set off in search for the holding cells. He saw a little convenient set of signs and followed them to his destination.

He slipped past one lazy guard and made his way to the cell containing the older werewolf.

Derek sat up quickly when he scented his pack member.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed quietly, so they wouldn't alert the guard.

"Relax." He answered, grinning, "They stuck me with one of the cops for the night and I told them I need to come back for my meds. Which isn't actually a lie, I've been pretty spazzy and stuff."

Derek shook his head, secretly amused. "Did you manage to get a hold of Scott?"

"Nope. They've got me under pretty tight lockdown."

Derek sighed. "All right. I'll figure out a way to get out, you stay where you're at. It's safer until we find out who grabbed you and why."

Stiles twitched. "Derek, those guys... they weren't normal."

He spotted Derek's "dude when is anything we see ever normal" expression and rushed to explain himself.

"No, seriously. Before you got there and that one guy was killing all his partners, their faces changed, all of them. They were kind of like werewolves, but way, way different. The dead guys looked kind of like, I don't know, were-hawks, I guess, is the best description. But the guy you fought off...well, you saw him right?"

Derek nodded.

"Yeah. He was almost like a tiger or something. I took a big chunk out of his side. Didn't even slow him down."

Suddenly there was a clanging noise in the distance, making them both jump.

"I'd better go."Stiles said, turning to leave. "Sorry I got you arrested." He said, an afterthought.

Derek's arms snaked through the bars unexpectedly and pulled him back.

"Hey." He said, face looking uncharacteristically gentle, "Whatever it was that happened with those guys, it most definitely was not your got that?"

Stiles nodded, surprised at his sudden outburst.

Nick chose that time to burst through the doors, and when he saw Derek with his hands wrapped around Stiles' collar, he drew his gun quickly, leveling it at the other man's head.

Derek let go like the cloth had burned him and took a step backwards, hands raised.

"Looks like this is a misunderstanding." He said calmly. "Me and Stiles were just talking."

Monroe had followed Nick in, and was standing next to him, glaring at Derek. Stiles almost thought his eyes turned a reddish color, but the light shifted and they returned to normal.

"Yeah, right." Nick said, unwavering.

Stiles placed himself in front of Nick's gun. "No, seriously. He wasn't doing anything."

Nick frowned and reluctantly lowered his gun. "Yeah? Then can you explain what was just happening there?"

This didn't daunt Stiles. "Sure I can." He said, walking over to the cell and reaching through the bars.

He grabbed an extremely surprised Derek and pulled him into a long kiss, stunning the other men into an awkward silence. "See?" He said, then exited like this was an everyday thing, leaving every man in the room standing with their mouths agape.

Nick and Monroe eventually followed him out, looking like they didn't quite know what had just happened.

Once they were gone, Derek spit something out of his mouth and grinned. In his hand he held a handcuff key, covered with the gum Stiles had been chewing moments before.

He was never going to tell the pack about this. Ever


	7. Chapter 7

It only took Nick and Monroe five minutes to find Stiles' Adderal and retrieve it from evidence.

When they got back to the chair they had left Stiles in, the teenager was no where to be found.

"Great, we lost him." Monroe commented sarcastically.

Nick glared at him. "You think you can track him?"

Monroe scoffed. "Please, do you doubt me? He stinks to high heaven of cologne, hormones, sweat, and a little bit of wolf too."

Nick grinned at the Blutbad. "So is that a yes?"

Monroe grinned back. "Follow me."

* * *

><p>They found themselves in the hallway leading to the holding cells.<p>

"He's in there." Monroe said, pointing.

"What's he doing in there?" Nick asked.

Monroe shrugged. "I dunno. Do I look like a physic to you? If you want, I can listen in."

Nick nodded, and Monroe looked around before morphing into a red-eyed, wolf like creature and cocking his ears toward the room.

Nick waited impatiently, getting interrupted every time he tried to talk by his friend with a firm shush.

He eventually took to peering around the corner, unable to hear anything, but at least he could see what was going on.

Stiles was talking to Derek, apparently discussing something. Stiles seemed about to leave, but Derek grabbed his plaid shirt through the bars and hauled him backwards, saying something in a hushed tone.

Nick noticed the surprised look on Stiles face and rushed in, raising his gun. Stiles somehow managed to defuse the situation, though, walking out on all of them with a smug look on his face.

Nick and Monroe reluctantly followed him out, still a little shell shocked.

Stiles was waiting for them next to the chair they had left him in, bouncing a little. "Took you long enough. Did you guys get my meds?"

Nick nodded wordlessly, handing over the pill bottle contained in a plastic evidence baggie. He broke into it, taking a pill and visibly relaxing a bit already. They left the station without saying another word.


	8. Chapter 8

Everyone was silent for most of the ride back, until Monroe's curiosity got the better of him and he twisted around in his seat.

"So wait, I don't get it. That was the guy who like, kidnapped you, right?"

He asked Stiles, who actually looked offended at the accusation."No. Derek wasn't the one who kidnapped me."

He said, causing Nick to twist around too, once they were at a stoplight.

"What did you say?"

"He was just coming to rescue me." Stiles said, "You guys thought he was the one who grabbed me?"

Nick shook his head and turned back to the road, pondering this new piece of information. He had been beginning to suspect that Derek wasn't exactly guilty of everything he was suspected of, but now he had evidence.

He would have to ask Monroe what he heard when they got home.

* * *

><p>As soon as they got there, Stiles retreated up to his room, leaving Nick and Hank downstairs to talk to Monroe. Rosalee had gone home while they were gone, so it was just them.<p>

Monroe recounted what he had heard, Nick pitching in every once in a while with his part. When they got to the part of Derek and Stiles kissing through the bars, Hank was laughing so hard he was practically in tears.

"Man, I wish I could have seen your faces. It sounds priceless."

His face turned serious. "It sounds like they definitely saw some Wesen. And didn't know what they were. So that means neither of them are Wesen, right?"

Monroe nodded. "I don't think so. The only weird scent I got off of him was wolf. Like he was rolling around with them. I don't know of any Wesen that smell like that."

Nick nodded. "Okay. You said they were talking about someone named Scott? Any ideas who that is?"

Everyone shook their heads and he sighed. "Great. So now we basically know negative information."

He was interrupted from saying anything further by a loud growl outside and a heavy bang on the door.

Everyone looked to each other, but none of them seemed to know exactly what to do.

Nick reluctantly moved to open the door, gun drawn. His hand was on the doorknob, about to open it, when Stiles came flying down the stairs, startling him.

He slammed himself bodily into the door, turning all the locks into a locked position and putting the chain on the door. He turned to face them all, breathless.

"Whatever you do, do not open that door."

Suddenly that very door was broken down, sending Stiles flying back into Nick.

A man stood in the doorway, his face morphed into a tiger-like Wesen form.

Stiles grabbed Nick's arm frantically, dragging him with him towards the staircase.

"Come on!" He screamed at the other men in the room, spurring them into action. They sprinted up the staircase to Stiles' guest room, Nick pausing briefly to send several bullets into their attacker's chest, which didn't stop him, but slowed him down enough for them to slam the door shut, locking him out, for now.

Without a word of explanation to anyone, Stiles reached into his pocket and pulled out a pinch of black dust, spreading it in front of the door.

Nick privately was pretty sure that it would never make it's way across the whole doorway, but to his surprise, the boy closed his eyes and kept moving, letting a bit of the sand pour out continuously, until he had spread it across the perimeter of the entire room somehow.

"There." Stiles announced, standing up and brushing himself off, looking surprisingly calm.

"That should hold him."

With that, the door flew open, causing Nick and Hank to whirl towards it, guns drawn.

The Wesen grinned ferociously at the black line in front of the door, showing off curved fangs. He tried to step through the doorway and to them all to pieces but was propelled backwards by something unseen.

Each adult looked at each other, a common question running through all their minds. 'did you do that?'

Slowly, all eyes moved to Stiles, who was grinning at them.

Somehow, he still seemed to have a handful of his black dust, which he slowly brought over towards the angry and confused Wesen standing outside the door.

He grinned again and held his hand up. Then, before anyone could wonder what he was doing, he blew.

The dust exploded into the intruder's face, making him scream in pain and stumble backwards. He took off running down the stairs, and out the front door, howling.

When the dust cleared, it now seemed to spread down the staircase and wrap around the house, in front of the broken down door. The Wesen tried to get back in, recovered now apparently, but was thrown backwards again.

Seeing his unsuccessful attempts, Stiles closed the door and turned towards them. He placed the remaining pinch of dust back in his pocket and looked at Monroe, who had Woged in all the confusion, eyes red and glowing.

"You." He said, "have some explaining to do."


	9. Chapter 9

Monroe, embarrassed, shifted back into his normal face. "I'm not the only one. What was that black dust and how did it do that?" Stiles sat down criss cross one the floor. "It was a gift from a friend in case of emergencies. Mountain ash. We just better hope they didn't bring a human with them." Hank looked confused. "Why would that matter?" Stiles sighed. "Because, only a human can break the line." As if they were proving Stiles' words, there were slow, ominous footsteps up the stairs. The tiger Wesen reappeared in the doorway, looking slightly more wary than last time. A blond woman came in behind. She caught sight of Nick and an evil smile crossed her pretty face.

"Well, I was just here for the emissary, but look what I've found. A real live Grimm."

Stiles took a step back.

"Woah, first of all, I'm not technically an emissary. I'm not a druid. Second of all, what's a Grimm, and third of all-" he took a deep breath. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Nick and Monroe covered their sensitive ears as the teen screamed loudly, only pausing for small breaths. As he continued, the woman looked a little uncomfortable as well.

"Stop him. He'll wake up half of America at this volume." She kicked the mountain ash line, breaking it, and glared at her Wesen companion. He entered reluctantly, probably remembering what Stiles did last time. As he approached the still screaming teen, Monroe stepped in front of him, baring his teeth, red eyes flashing. All three adults jumped the Wesen, grappling with him in a flurry of fists and feet. Stiles' eyes widened a bit, but he didn't stop screaming. Nick vaguely wondered what exactly he was doing as he caught a fist flying towards his face. Eventually, the bad guy popped out of the pile, throwing Monroe into the wall and Hank into the closet doors, where they lay, dazed. Nick backed up against the wall with Stiles, who was still screaming his head off. A couple of dogs barked across the street, agitated. Nick looked over at Stiles in confusion. The teen paused for only a half second to whisper to Nick.

"Stall them." Then he resumed screaming. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-" He was cut short as the Wesen slammed his head into the wall. He crumpled down, eyes closed. Nick looked down at his unconscious form and had no choice but to do what he said. He stalled.


	10. Chapter 10

Wu entered the holding cells uneasily. The Captain had gotten orders to transfer the suspect to FBI custody, for some reason. With the FBI, you don't ask, and they don't tell. So of course, Wu had to be the one to transfer the creepy suspect. Really, it was just his luck. He started unlocking the cell nervously, the guy staring at him the whole time.

"We've uh, got orders to transfer you to another facility. Turn around."

He told him lamely. Luckily, he didn't give any trouble until they got to the parking lot. There, he stood absolutely still, cocking his head like he was listening to something in the distance that Wu couldn't hear. He got even more uneasy.

"Come on."

The man turned back to him. What the- hadn't his eyes been green a second ago? He got a truly apologetic look on his face. Wu backed up a little, scared.

"I'm sorry. But I've got a pain in the butt to save."

"What-?"

Derek's suddenly unhandcuffed fists came flying towards his face, making Wu hit the ground with a thud. Yep, it was just his luck.


	11. Chapter 11

"So, what exactly is the reason for kidnapping a teenage boy?"

Nick tried, in an attempt to stall. After all, villains love to reveal their plans to show how much smarter than you they are. Sure enough, she smiled and leaned against the doorway.

"I suppose I may as well tell you, seeing how I'll probably kill you or sell you to the highest bidder who wants to. But first, Carl, take his weapons and handcuff him to the bed."

Dang. There goes escaping using the element of surprise. The woman picked up Hank's gun from where it had landed when he was vaulted across the room.

"And don't even think of trying anything, Grimm."

Nick sighed and allowed his gun to be seized and for the Wesen, Carl, she had called him, to handcuff him to the bedpost in an uncomfortable position. Satisfied that he was properly restrained, she began her clichéd evil villain speech.

"Every emissary has heard stories about the legendary Hale werewolf pack."

Wait, did she say werewolves? She really was insane.

"Most of the family killed in fire, only for the pack to be rebuilt, stronger, with one if the only surviving members of the fire as their Alpha. And my pack leader, well, he wants Hale's pack to join with his own."

She got a slightly dreamy look on her face. "And me, well I'm only an emissary. But our leader says that if I can get the pack to join with his, he'll turn me too. So naturally, I watched the pack. Looked for its weakest link to force them to join us. And what would I find but a human rolling around in the mud with werewolves. And for some reason, they seem strangely fond of the weak thing. So I waited until he was finally alone. That pack never seems to leave him. But finally, I got my chance when he was shipped off here to Portland, the Wesen hotspot."

She frowned slightly. "How was I supposed to know the new" she spat out the word new "Alpha would send the old one as protection? But I suppose it worked out for the better. After all, I've used my status as an FBI agent to bring in the Hale, so now I've got two bargaining chips to kill if the pack refuses me again. And a Grimm too. This must be my lucky day."

A voice behind her made everyone in the room still conscious jump.

"Maybe you oughtta think again about that." And into the room stepped a VERY angry Derek Hale, eyes glowing Beta blue and face transformed into that of a wolf.


	12. Chapter 12

Derek went after the bad guy Wesen with a sudden ferocity. They tumbled down the stairs together, a blur of teeth and claws, leaving Nick alone with the mysterious blond woman. She raised Hank's gun angrily, beginning to suspect she wasn't going to win this one.

"You were stalling me!" She shrieked angrily. Nick tugged at the bedpost he was handcuffed to frantically, wobbling it a little.

"This is all your fault!" She squeezed the trigger just as the post broke free, Nick rolling out of the way, the bullet lodging itself into the wall. He jumped at her, swinging the post he was still chained to. It smacked the gun out of her hands, making it clatter to the floor. She lunged at him angrily, clawing at his face. He threw her down and managed to handcuff the squirming woman to the old radiator in the corner. She screamed at him, furious. He attempted to rouse the others, but got no answer except a low moan from each. He heard fighting outside his window. It sounded like Derek and Carl had decided to take the fight outside.

Nick slid a huge locked trunk out of the closet and opened it quickly. Inside were tons of weapons, all things he had taken out of the trailer Aunt Marie had given him before she died. He knew they would come in handy someday. He quickly searched his mind for anything he had seen in any of the ancient books he owned that would help him kill whatever kind of Wesen Carl was. He vaguely remembered seeing a picture of something close and a description of how to kill it. What was it, what was it? Yes! He pulled a shimmering axe out of the trunk, weighing it in his hands. Realizing what he was planning to do, the woman shreiked even louder. He ignored her and took off down the stairs and out into the street.

He spotted all the lights on in the surrounding houses, and an angry yelling from one yard in particular. He grimiced. It was old lady Macreed, the meanest thing, human or Wesen, Nick had ever met. She was yelling angrily and spraying the hose at the two figures fighting, destroying her prized garden.

"Ma'am, go back inside!" He yelled at her as he charged past, holding up his badge in the hand that was not currently occupied by an axe. She complied begrudgingly, muttering something about hooligans in masks as she slammed the door shut behind her.

Derek seemed to be winning at the moment, digging his teeth into Carl's furry arm. "Move!" Nick yelled as he rushed in. Surprised, Derek rolled out of the way just as Nick's axe connected with the Wesen he had been fighting with moments before.

"Gross."

They looked down at the body. Suddenly it started to bubble and fizz, dissolving into nothing except a patch of the garden that looked like nothing was going to grow there ever again.

"Well that was convenient."

They walked back to the house together. Nick could only imagine how ridiculous they must have looked, with Derek's clothes all torn up and Nick wielding a giant battle axe.

"So, werewolf?" Nick asked

"Werewolf." Derek confirmed.

"Great."


	13. Chapter 13

Back at the house, Derek kneeled at Stiles' unconscious side, nudging him.

"Stiles. Wake up. Stiles."

From across the room, Nick looked at him in pity. Monroe and Hank had already woken up, sitting up and rubbing their heads, watching the them.

"C'mon Stiles. Scott's going to kill me if I bring you back in a coma."

Stiles stirred a little. Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding.

"Aw thanks Sourwolf. It's nice to know you care."

Derek let out a shaky laugh and hauled the teenager to his feet. "Nah, I just don't want Allison shooting me again."

"She'll probably do it anyways, just for fun. Anyways, I think it's time us and our new friends had a discussion."

He said, looking at the three men staring at them on the other side of the tiny attic room.


	14. Chapter 14

An hour later, they all sat around the dining room table, stunned at all the new information they'd gotten.

"Wait, so werewolves are real?" Hank asked incredulously.

"Yeah. And Nick's something called a Grimm and Monroe's a Blutbad?"

"Yep. That about sums it up."

There was another awkward silence. Nick's phone rang, making everyone jump. He picked it up, putting it on speaker, knowing everyone would ask him about it afterward anyway. It was the captain.

"We've got a situation. Derek escaped and an FBI agent has gone missing. You..."

He trailed off at the guilty silence on the other end.

"He's with you isn't he."

"Um. Yeah. I'll explain later."

"Fine. But it had better be good."

He hung up without saying goodbye. Stiles looked at him.

"So what now?"

Nick thought for a moment then sighed.

"Go. We'll tell them that the girl attacked us and Derek came to help. But you disappeared while we weren't looking."

Stiles gave him a grateful smile.

"Thanks. If you're ever in Beacon Hills, look us up at the animal hospital."

They said quick goodbyes and were across the street by the time the police cars arrived, sirens blaring.

"Let's not do that again. Agreed?"

"Agreed. Oh and if you ever mention that thing that happened again, I will kill you."

Stiles gave an innocent look. "What thing that happened?"

Derek smacked him, glaring.

"Oh that thing."

**Sorry the update took so long. I'm thinking of adding more chapters where the Grimm team goes to Beacon Hills, but I may just make a sequel. Thanks for reading :)**


	15. Part 2: Chapter 1

**Sorry it took so long for the update. This is now officially part two of the story, set quite a while after the first part. Juliet knows about Wesen, but the sheriff still doesn't know about werewolves. Right after the season 2, episode 10 of teen wolf called Fury**

It had been an uncharacteristically slow week for the Portland PD. There had only been one easily solvable murder, but other than that, it was quiet. Nick and his partner Hank were sitting at their desks playing hacky sack with a balled up arrest report for lack of anything better to do. Sergeant Wu muttered something about detectives getting to do all the fun stuff as he walked by with a pile of paperwork. When the captain called them into his office, they started to get the feeling their day of inactivity was coming to an end. He shut the door behind them, but didn't close the blinds, which they took as a slightly good sign.

"I'm sending you two to California."

He announced, as if that was a perfectly normal way to greet someone.

"A Sheriff's station was brutally attacked by what the coroner says was a very large wild animal. Nearly all the deputies who worked there were killed, they sent out an open request to law enforcement to send out any nonessential personnel to help until they get new officers in two months. That's why I'm sending you. This sounds Wesen, and they need someone who actually knows anything about them."

"Wait, you're sending us to California for two months? What about Juliet?"

Nick asked incredulously. Ever since Juliet had gotten her memory back and found out about Wesen, Nick was reluctant to spend too much time away from her.

"Or until you solve the case. And bring her too. In fact, bring your Blutbad. He may be useful to track whatever it really is down."

Both detectives gave sighs of resignation. Once the captain decided he wanted them to do something, it wasn't really an option to say no.

"Where are we going, then?"

"Beacon Hills."


	16. Part 2: Chapter 2

It had taken quite a bit of effort to convince Juliet, Monroe, and Rosalee to come out to California with them. But they had, and after one very long flight, they found themselves at the woodsy little cabin they rented out for the while they were there. It would have reminded them a little of camping, if they weren't there to solve a massacre. It was in the middle of the woods, which Nick thought was a little creepy. Everyone agreed with him.

They decided that since it was late, they would stay the night at the cabin, then Hank and Nick would go down to the station and Juliet would look into a temporary position at the animal shelter in the morning.

Something about the place reminded Nick of something, but he couldn't place it. Him, Monroe, and Rosalee were all on edge the moment they landed in Beacon Hills. They all felt a sort of pull there, though none of them could put their finger on what exactly.

They played scrabble for a while, but Monroe kept winning, so it was no fun. They took to bed rather early, exhausted from their flight.

That night, as Juliet and Nick lay cuddling in their bed, a howl split through the air.

"Was that a wolf?"

Nick asked, looking out the window next to the bed. Juliet shook her head nervously.

"There are no wolves in California."

Great. This was going to be a fun trip.


	17. Part 2: Chapter 3

The next day, Juliet found herself down at the local animal hospital. She couldn't go two months without something to do, she would go crazy. She had the foresight to call ahead, and a Doctor Deaton said he could use the help, as long as she came in for an interview sometime that week. She straightened her shirt nervously then stepped inside. She found the lobby empty, no one to be seen. There was a crash and a yell from a back room and she peered around the front desk curiously.

"Hello?"

She called out, and was answered by another crash and the door leading to the back swinging open. She only got a glimpse at the room before a man stepped through the doorway and closed it soundly behind him.

"I'm Doctor Deaton, I run this place. How may I help you?"

His question was punctuated by a loud squeal and some shouted curse words. Deaton smiled pleasantly as if he didn't notice.

"I'm Juliet Silverton, I spoke with you on the phone about a position here?"

"Yes, of course. Something came up and I seem to have forgotten. Perhaps another time?"

He said cordially, ignoring the sound of glass shattering in the back room.

"Of course, just, what exactly came up?"

"Just an... insect problem."

The back door flew open again and a teenage boy came skidding out, dripping wet for some reason.

"Derek wants to know where you keep the- Oh, hi. "

He stopped when he caught sight of Juliet, looking embarrassed. He started to wring his scarf out nervously onto the floor as he looked at Deaton, waiting for an explanation or an answer, Juliet wasn't sure which.

"It's on the top shelf, far right, Isaac."

He said, apparently knowing what he was looking for. Isaac nodded then scurried off towards the back, swinging the door shut behind him.

"Umm..."

Juliet said unsurely. The door banged open again, hitting the wall so hard Juliet was sure it was dented. Now, for the first time, she got a good look at the inside. There was your normal veterinarian equipment, lab tables, shelves filled with medicine, and several more teenagers, staring at her, frozen. One kid was on top of the table, hockey gear covering him from head to toe, metal baseball bat in hand. Another was shirtless, holding an enormous can of bug spray, and yet another was holding a chair over his head, dripping wet as well as the kid who had come in earlier. A blonde girl was sitting on the shoulders of a black kid, frozen in a reach toward the ceiling. Deaton calmly closed the door before she could see more and turned back. The noise restarted, a manic yelling joining the fray.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then. Have a good day, Ms. Silverton."

He picked up a needle filled with a green substance then returned to the room without any further explanation.

As she opened the front door to leave, a few yelled words made their way out of the clatter.

"KILL IT! OH MY GOD, SCOTT, KILL IT! GET IT OFF! GROSS, GROSS, GROSS! EWWW!"

I'M TRYING! WHY DON'T YOU DO IT, STILES?! IT'S A LOT HARDER THAN IT LOOKS!"

Juliet left, not really sure she wanted to hear any more. She hoped Nick was having a slightly less weird time at the sheriff's station. Somehow, she really doubted it.


	18. Part 2: Chapter 4

_**Okay, so this is slightly AU as to who knows what and when, I'm sorry. Lydia is fully aware of her banshee skills and is part of the pack, although Jackson isn't. Stiles' dad doesn't know and Boyd, Erica, Allison, and Isaac are all there and happy to be so. Other than that not much is changed, thanks for reading all this was and sorry I'm terrible at updating on time.**_

Nick and Hank grimaced slightly as they entered the Beacon Hills station. Besides the fact that it was virtually empty and a grim looking man was putting white paint over a red stain on the wall, you would never guess that there had been a massacre only weeks before. The man who was painting pointed the way to the sheriff's office. They only passed a few people on the way, obviously from other departments. Nick guessed that the reason so few officers had been sent down was that no one really wanted to risk any of their men's lives on something that wasn't their problem. Hank scoffed and Nick knew he was thinking the same thing. When they knocked on the open door leading to the sheriff's office, the frazzled looking man inside jumped.

"Oh, you must be the detectives Portland sent over."

He said, smoothing his hair down. The man was seriously stressed, and they could understand why. From the file, him and two teenagers whose names were withheld were the only survivors of the attack. It had been blamed on some other kid, who had yet to be found, which made the captain's theory about it being a Wesen more and more likely. He stood up to shake their hands.

"I'm Sheriff Stillinski. It's nice to meet you. We can use all the help we can get around here."

They shook his hand politely, then introduced themselves.

"Detectives Burkhardt and Griffin. It's nice to meet you too, Sir."

He got them set up at two adjacent desks, not unlike they had at home. They spent an hour or so filling out paperwork and forms, then Stillinski took them on a tour of the station. It was pretty standard, with holding cells and a few storage rooms. One of the holding cell's doors was in the process of being welded back on, and someone was spackling over a bullet hole in the wall. The attack had really done a number on the place, Nick noted.

They had almost finished with the tour when nearly all the phones started to ring at once. That was a bad sign. The sheriff picked up the landline in his office wearily.

"Stillinski. Alright, where? Who found him? Ms. Martin again? Okay, keep her there until she can give her statement. No, she is not a suspect." He sighed and ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. "We'll be right there. Block off the scene, and for goodness sake, don't let my son in. No matter how good his excuse is."

He hung up and looked over to where they were waiting curiously.

"There's been a murder."

And there was that Portland feeling.

They pulled up to the crime scene with both Nick and Hank squished into the back of the cruiser since they couldn't agree on who got to sit shotgun. There was two or three officers at the scene, reminding them all of just how understaffed they were. One was standing in front of the police tape, stopping the bystanders from getting too close. The officer, Jones, recognized Stillinski, giving him a nod and lifting the tape for them to pass by.

"My son try and weasel his way into seeing Ms. Martin?"

Stillinski asked Jones, out of habit mostly, he knew what the answer was going to be. Jones nodded, rolling his eyes. He had been one of the few deputies that hadn't gone to work that fateful day, and knew the sheriff's son well enough to anticipate his antics.

"Yup. Went away with a suspiciously small argument. I'll keep an eye out, sir."

Nick chuckled. It sounded like this kid was a real handful.

They all stepped up to examine the body, a middle aged man with slicked back hair and an officer taking photos from above. A large knife was sticking from his abdomen, pale hand wrapped around the handle. Behind him, an ambulance was parked by the curb, back doors open and a teenage girl sitting, wrapped in a blanket while a paramedic took her pulse. She was very pretty, with curled red hair and an irritated expression that didn't diminish her beauty.

"I told you, I'm _fine_"

She was telling the paramedic angrily.

"I found a body, I didn't fall off a cliff."

After hearing this exchange, Stillinski stopped looking over the body and joined the girl, Nick and Hank following curiously.

"Hello, Lydia."

The girl stopped arguing at the sound of her name.

"Mr. Stillinski! Can you please tell this guy I'm fine?"

He sighed and motioned for the paramedic to leave, drawing a self satisfied smile from Lydia. She threw the orange shock blanket she was wrapped in off to the side, revealing a pair of blue pajamas.

"Sleepwalking again, Ms. Martin?"

Stillinski asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded, a little sheepishly, looking down at her pajamas.

"This happen often?"

Nick asked from behind them. She looked at him as if she hadn't noticed him before he spoke.

"Who are you? Not that you're not kind of hot, in an adult kind of way."

Nick blushed and Hank put a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. Stillinski gave her a disapproving look and she stood up, bare feet pressing into the gravel.

"I really should start wearing shoes to bed." She commented, wiggling her blue painted toes.

"Lydia, this is detectives Burkhardt and Griffin. They're here because of the... staffing issue at the station."

She pulled on a pair of Ugg boots a female deputy had brought and nodded her understanding.

"Ah, got ya. I'm Lydia Martin, Beacon Hill's sleepwalking body finder. Really, I should be getting paid for all the effort I save the lovely officers. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few hours of sleep to get caught up on. No need to take me home, I've got a ride."

She turned on her heel and strode out, calling over her shoulder about how she had already given her statement and not to disturb her for at least three hours if they had any more questions. The officer manning the tape lifted it up and let her out without any questions. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and headed down the street, ignoring the curious stares.

"Some girl huh? My son has a huge crush."

Stillinski said, turning back to examine the body.

"She's right, though, we really should be paying her."

They didn't find anything remarkably new about the body, besides the fact his jeans were muddy and his wallet was no where to be found. The cause of death was pretty obvious, and the killer didn't seem to have left behind any evidence.

"Did any of your men check that camera footage yet?"

Nick asked, gesturing to the rotating security camera on the side of a nearby white building.

"They pulled up the tape in the comic book store over there. Maybe we'll get lucky, catch the killer on tape."

Nick nodded and they followed him into the store. AC-DC was playing faintly over the speakers and the whole place had a subtle smell of nerd. A bored young goth chick was sitting behind the counter, snapping her gum.

"Feed for the camera's over there. Knock yourselves out."

She said, twisting her dark hair and returning to her comic book.

They skirted the display case filled with Star Trek action figures and flipped on the flat screen displaying the footage. Hank grabbed the remote and rewound back to just before the estimated time of death. He hit play and they all watched carefully for the few seconds it took the victim to stumble into frame.

He was disheveled, looking around wildly for a threat that either wasn't there or didn't come into view of the camera. He looked around wildly then stared down at the knife clutched in his hands. The knife that was, in the present, currently lodged in their victim. The knife that was already dripping in blood as the man looked down at it like it was first time he had ever seen it.

His mouth moved in the same shapes over and over, although the video had no sound.

"What does he keep saying?"

Hank asked, pressing pause on the footage after the guy's fifth time of repetition. Stillinski squinted at the screen.

"It looks like... 'What did you make me do, why did you do that to me?' I'm pretty sure."

The Portland detectives stared at him curiously.

"What? It helps when you have an overly active teenage son who never tells you anything."

They shrugged and resumed the video.

The future victim stared down at the knife. Then, in one quick motion, he closed his eyes in a resigned way, then plunged it into himself. The detectives and the sheriff gasped a little at the abruptness of his apparent suicide. They all stayed silent as they fast forwarded in case more clues showed themselves. Nothing came into frame except a stray brown and white tabby cat until Lydia came around.

She was clearly sleepwalking, not even noticing the body until her foot hit it, making her stumble. Then, she seemed to wake up and look down at the man. She jumped back a couple feet before composing herself and kneeling down to check his pulse. When she didn't find one, she wiped her hand on her pajama pants then pulled her cell phone out of the pocket. Nick was about to shut the footage off when she hung up, then dialed another number. He assumed one of them was her call to 911, but what was the other? He kept his wondering to himself and clicked the T.V off.

"I'll get a search party to go over the woods he came out of. From the blood that was already on that knife, we might have another victim on our hands."

Stillinski said, pulling out his phone.

Invisible threats, suicide, a second body in the woods; Nick could swear Beacon Hills was feeling more like Portland every day.


	19. Part 2: Chapter 5

**Sorry once again for the slow update. I suck, I know. I'm also fixing the first chapters to make them more readable, I'll get to them all eventually. Enjoy!**

The search party had yielded no results in finding the second victim, if there even was one. Impatient with the slowness of the search, Nick and Hank decided to call in Monroe to help, since the police were having no luck.

"This better be worth it. Rosalee and I were watching the new episode of Iron Chef."

Monroe grumbled to them as he slammed the door of his rental car.

"We might have another victim in the case we're working on, and it's possible they're still alive, so yeah, I think this is pretty important."

"Okay, you don't need to be so dramatic. Can you show me the spot the guy came out of? I can track him back from there, I think."

They brought him to the spot he had stumbled into the view of the camera and he stood still for a moment, sniffing at the air. Then, he Woged, ears turning to a point and eyes taking on a result glow. They followed the Blutbad carefully as he tracked the scent. All of the sudden, he stopped, making Hank nearly run into Nick's back.

"What's wrong?"

They asked as Monroe looked around, face confused.

"I don't know, I just got a weird smell of... Peppermint? The woods are full of it. I don't know if it was your bad guy, but _something_ has been going through a lot of trouble to cover their trail. The woods are practically bathed in the stuff. I can't catch any scents, just this stupid peppermint."

He sneezed, the action just illustrating his point. He looked at Nick apologetically.

"Sorry dude, I can't help you any further than this."

"That's alright. At least now we know that there is something in this town that doesn't want to be tracked. Let's go pick up Juliet and Rosalee and we can sort it out back at the cabin."

They swung by the coffee shop where the two women had been hanging out to pick them up, then headed back towards their temporary home away from home. They only stopped by briefly to get changed for a group dinner out then left again.

When they had finished with their meal and gotten back, Nick unlocked the door and threw the keys on the entry room table with a jingle. They spread the case files over the coffee table messily and everyone gathered on the couch to watch TV and talk through the case. It was a tradition their little gang had developed back home, and it had helped them solve many a case. Most of the time, they held it at Aunt Marie's trailer, when they had started to get tired of driving back and forth to look for some obscure text, but seeing how it was all the way back home, they had to make do with where they were.

As the commercials started to play, Monroe suddenly perked up, face Woging for a second. Nick noticed, but continued to carry out casual conversation, while scribbling a message into a yellow notebook.

_Something here?_

Monroe nodded, pointing to his ears, while still explaining the great inner workings of clocks. Nick slid the notebook over and Monroe scrawled his own message onto the paper.

_I can hear them. In the closet._

Nick nodded his understanding and drew his gun, motioning for Hank to do the same. Rosalee and Juliet began moving to safety in the kitchen while talking about shoes, so not to tip the person or persons off that they knew they were there. Once both guns were cocked and leveled at the closet, Nick spoke up.

"We know you're in there. Just come out of the closet."

Nick called out in his most threatening _I'm a Grimm, I kill monsters for a living _voice he could muster.

_"Dude, there are soo many many jokes I can make from that, I don't even know where to begin."_

Came a muffled voice from the confines of the closet.

_"Seriously, shut up! What's even wrong with you?"_

Another voice reprimanded the first.

_"He must have been dropped on the head a lot as a child."_

A third voice. How many people were in there? The entire high school lacrosse team?

"I'm going to ask you one more time, come out of the- out of there."

_"Okay, okay, we're coming. Why is there so much stuff in here anyway?"_

There was a clattering and the sound of something heavy hitting the wall.

_"Ow! Oh, hey, it looks like you guys. You think you're related?"_

_"You are such an idiot."_

Hank looked over at Nick, raising an eyebrow. They didn't exactly sound threatening. The door to the closet finally swung open and a blur of red stepped out, promptly tripping over a pair of boots and falling on their face.

_"Idiot."_

The blur of red, which, now that it wasn't falling, they could see was someone in a bright red hoodie, looked up sheepishly.

"Stiles?"

Monroe was the first to recognize the teen. Stiles' face brightened into a smile.

"Detective Grimm Guy! Fancy meeting you here! What a coincidence."

Stiles' two closet companions stepped out after him, managing to stay on their feet, unlike the clumsy teen.

"You know these people? That would have been helpful to know before we broke in."

The other teenager with him said.

"It wasn't my fault! I didn't know it was them. Derek knows them too!"

Stiles accused at Derek, who had stepped just rolled his eyes.

"Not that this reunion isn't, you know, nice, but what exactly are you three doing hiding in our closet?"

Monroe asked as Stiles got up, brushing himself off. The teen grinned awkwardly in response.

"Well..."


	20. Part 2: Chapter 6

_**Roughly two hours before the "closet incident"**_

"There's new people. And some of them smell funny."

Isaac announced abruptly. Erica paused in the middle of toweling off her hair. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you mean by funny? Like, haha, clown funny, or like, there's another crazy alpha werewolf turning teenagers in the woods willy nilly funny?"

She asked, and Peter looked up from his newspaper and grinned at her creepily. Seriously, that guy is really creepy. Stiles threw a layer of gooey lacrosse gear from the incident at Deaton's clinic onto a chair and added in,

"First of all, clowns are not funny. They're just creepy. Also, who says willy nilly? That's stupid."

As the wolves and assorted other creatures around the room added in their arguments as to why or why not clowns were creepier than Kanimas and why willy nilly was a perfectly acceptable word, thank you very much, Derek started to wonder why he thought turning a bunch of teenagers was such a wonderful idea. He let out a growl that silenced the room, with the exception of Stiles, who kept talking animatedly for a few seconds before he realized that no one else was. Derek rolled his eyes as the teen's speech slowly wound down into nothing.

"Thank you. Now, Isaac, what were you saying about new people?"

Isaac took a second to realize he was being addressed.

"Oh, right. Well, after we got rid of the thing down at the animal hospital, I was the cleanest so me and Stiles went to go pick up Lydia. After we dropped her off at her house we went to go get fries 'cause _someone-_"

He glared at Stiles and stressed the someone- "was hungry, and three guys came out of the woods. They smelled really weird. I don't know how to explain it, they just smelled _weird._ Anyways, Stiles was still inside Jack in the Box because he takes _forever _to order, so I followed them. They picked up two girls, one of them smelled funny too, then they went up to that old cabin at the far end of the preserve. And should I mention I followed them all the way there _and_ came back and Stiles was just finishing ordering. And he didn't even share."

He pouted at the other teen, who didn't look sorry in the least.

"Hey, you want to steal some of my curly fries, you will have to pry them out of my cold, dead hands. And there's no guarantee that I won't come back as a ghost to haunt you and steal every single fry you try to eat for the rest of your life. I'll also stab you."

The pack was used to his weird rants and pretty much ignored him, except for making mental notes not to steal fries from Stiles in the future. Scott, who already knew that from previous and very painful experience, spoke up.

"You think these people are dangerous? I mean, it's not every day that we get visitors in Beacon Hills, especially ones that smell 'funny' "

Derek frowned.

"I don't know. We should check them out to make sure. Once everyone is all cleaned up, of course."

He added, looking at Allison, who was scraping whipped cream out of her shoes, and Boyd, who flung little clouds of flour into the air every time he moved too drastically. Man, that was a weird incident. Now it was Stiles' turn to pout.

"Come on, that'll take foreeeever. You, me, and Scott are already pretty clean. Let's just go now. Isaac can go get some fries of his own while we're gone."

Derek sighed.

"Okay, fine, whatever. A smaller group will be easier to hide anyway."

Stiles jumped up happily and clapped his hands, pleased he got his way.

"Woo hoo! Adventure! Allons-y!"

He grabbed his red hoodie off a hook on his way out the door, slipping it over his head as he bounced outside. Erica mumbled something about the dude making fun if her for willy nilly and then using a word he got from Doctor Who, but the hyperactive teen was already out of earshot. Derek groaned to himself then picked up his leather jacket, much more calmly.

They decided to take Stiles' Jeep rather than Derek's Camaro, partially because it draws less attention, but mostly it can take the woodsy roads a little better. Stiles blasted his music the whole way, singing along loudly. By the time they got to the stranger's cabin, Derek was ready to kill something.

Scott, however, was a bit more rational and knocked gently to confirm that no one was home. When there was no answer and the two werewolves' keen hearing and sense of smell didn't pick up anything, Stiles, ever the delinquent, knelt down to pick the lock.

When they'd gotten it open, the group of three slipped inside the dark cabin. Derek flipped the light switch and the place was illuminated with brightness. They looked around for a while but didn't find anything that screamed _I'm an evil werewolf._ Stiles was about to break into the fridge for a snack when both werewolves heard a distant screech of brakes. That meant a car. Which meant if they didn't get out soon, they'd be caught by whatever these new things were.

They could hear the tires crunching on the gravel driveway, and the engine idling smoothly. Derek cursed quietly and shoved the other two into the nearest closet, following and shutting the door behind himself. And not a moment too soon.

A key clicked in the door, then there were footsteps entering the house. Five people, from the sound of it, two females and three males. The fine layer of dust coating the closet prevented them from smelling the 'funny' scent Isaac had described. Luckily, the new arrivals didn't seem to be aware of their presence, and the opening title of Mythbusters started playing, muffled by the walls of the closet. They all stood as still as possible while they waited for an opportunity to escape.

That is, until the spider. Stiles could handle werewolves, Kanimas, Alphas, crazy hunters, ghosts, pretty much any scary thing that would make grown men cry, but spiders was where he drew the line.

And there one was, dangling in front of his face, looking all creepy and mocking him. It swung a little closer and Stiles squealed, stepping backwards and hitting the wall with a small thump.

Derek didn't say anything, but his glare said that there was a multitude of colorful and not exactly G rated words he would like to say. He listened carefully with his ear pressed against the wall, but no one seemed to have heard, as the conversation didn't even falter. But there was something familiar about some of those voices...

"_We know you're in there. Just come out of the closet."_

Oops. Apparently they did hear. Stiles couldn't resist.

"Dude, there are soo many jokes I could make from that, I don't even know where to begin."

Derek sent his best glare over to the other side of the closet.

"Seriously, shut up!" He hissed. "What's even wrong with you?"

"He must have been dropped on the head a lot as a child."

Scott chimed in unhelpfully.

"_I'm going to ask you one more time, come out of the- out of there."_

The guy outside demanded, sounding slightly confused. Derek growled at the two teenagers and motioned for them to get out there.

"Okay, okay we're coming."

Stiles said, moving a broom out of his way.

"Why is there so much stuff in here anyway?"

He tripped over something on the floor, knocking the broom he had just moved into the wall with a thump. He landed next to one of those creepy wolf pelts and held it up so they could see.

"Ow! Hey, it looks like you guys. Think you're related?"

He asked as he moved it off to the side. Derek held back the urge to rip his throat out. For now.

"You are such an idiot."

Was all he could say. Stiles grinned at them over his shoulder then swung the closet door open. He took one step out then fell flat on his face, typical Stiles style.

"Idiot."

This time it was Scott, although he was holding back a laugh when he said it.

"Stiles?"

Derek realized that it was one of the men outside saying it. Stiles looked up cheerfully.

"Detective Grimm Guy! Fancy meeting you here. What a coincidence."

Derek and Scott stepped over the teen, who was still sprawled out on the ground ungracefulmy.

"You know these people?"

Scott asked, glaring down at Stiles. "That would have been helpful to know _before _we broke in."

Stiles sat up, moving the offending boot that had tripped him.

"It wasn't my fault! I didn't know it was them. Derek knows them too!"

Derek responded by rolling his eyes and holding back a few choice words. One of the guys, Monroe, Derek was pretty sure his name was, spoke as Stiles got to his feet.

"Not that this reunion isn't, you know, nice, but what exactly are you three doing hiding in our closet?"

Stiles grinned up at him.

"Well..."


End file.
